


Stimulation of Skin Surface Nociceptors

by HermioneSpencer



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F, This definitely takes a turn, domestic cophine, hehe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-04
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-07-12 04:49:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7086175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermioneSpencer/pseuds/HermioneSpencer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Cosima gets a paper cut, she needs help to get through this troublesome time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stimulation of Skin Surface Nociceptors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SianRuns](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SianRuns/gifts).



> Yo yo yo my hella cool Reader!
> 
> I hope you enjoy this one-shot. I am not _entirely_ sure where it came from, but one thing I know for sure: Libraries are _excellent_ places for ideas.
> 
> Love,  
> Cody

“Delphine, baby, where the hell does the adaptor live?” Cosima shouted out to the house, slightly unsure of her wife’s exact location.  A voice shouted back patiently.

“It’s an _adaptor_ , _ma chérie_ , it doesn’t live _anywhere!_   We won’t need it, get rid of it!”  Delphine was in the bathroom on the upper floor.

“Okay, first of all, honey, _how_ do you even dispose of electronics?  I feel like it’s a mystery that everyone except _me_ has been told the answer to!  And secondly, _why_ would I throw it away?  It’s a fully functioning adaptor!  I think.  Anyway, what if we go on a trip somewhere?” Cosima stared at the small white plug that lay useless in her hands.

“What country is it for?” Came Delphine’s loud, yet calm voice.

“Ummm… I think it’s European!” Cosima shouted, not really having _any_ idea where is was actually meant for.

“ _Ma chérie_ , Europe is not a country!”

“Oh… yeah, sorry!  Ummm, I don’t know!  It’s not American, that’s all I know!”

“Cosima, if it was American, it would be a bit of a pointless adaptor, wouldn’t it?”  The brunette blushed, even though she was on her own in the kitchen.

“I’m not throwing it away!” she retorted, embarrassed.

“Are you planning on taking a trip to the fine country of Europe anytime soon?” Cosima could perfectly hear the irritation creeping into her wife’s voice. 

“Well… we might go and see your parents at Christmas?” she suggested, knowing that it was ridiculous.

“No!” Delphine’s voice rung through the house, and it was so loud and sharp that Cosima jumped, and she was sure her ears were left ringing slightly.  “We are _not_ visiting my parents this year!  We need to let them recover from the terror that Elisabeth put Clochette through in the Great Washing Machine Disaster of 2015!”

Cosima couldn’t help but let a small laugh escape, remembering the incident.

“Okay, come on, Lizzy was only four years old!  She’s seen me put her toy bear in the washing machine _hundreds_ of times because she’s such a mucky little child; it’s only _natural_ for her to assume that a cat gets the same treatment!”

“Cosima!  I’m not having that _discussion_ again!  The fact is, we’re _not_ going abroad this year!  Throw the adaptor away!  If we need one, we will buy it!”

Huffing indignantly, Cosima looked at the offending item accusingly.  She muttered to it as she strode to the bin.

“You are a fully functional adaptor.  I do _not_ need to throw you away.  Just because Little Miss Doctor Cormier comes from a rich family who can throw away money, it does not excuse her compulsive decluttering.  _I_ appreciate you, adaptor of an unknown country.”

“Cosima, why are you muttering?” Delphine was treading heavily and slowly down the stairs, carrying a large black sack.

She stuck her tongue out at her beautiful wife.

“Everyone talks to themselves!  It’s healthy.”

“Of course, _ma chérie_.”  With a smirk, she opened the front door and took the black sack out with her.  Cosima’s eyes narrowed as she watched her leave, and then she sped to the door behind her wife.  She stood in the doorway, holding onto the frame and leaning out.

“There had better not be anything important of mine in that bag, Delphine!” she shouted to her.  Delphine stopped and turned around, a smile playing on her lips.

“That is _very_ dependent on what you mean by _‘important’_.” She smirked and continued on to the bin at the end of the garden.  Whilst slightly perturbed by her wife’s vague meaning, Cosima still couldn’t help but admire the beauty of the woman she had married.  She was wearing her ‘cleaning dungarees’, which meant bad news for everyone because it meant that they were _all_ tidying, not just Delphine, but they were absolutely delightful to look at on her body.  They were loose, but the tight fitting tops she always wore underneath were enough to inspire a heat in Cosima’s body that could cause another Californian drought every time she saw them.  Cosima didn’t like staring at her wife, preferring to be more involved than mere observation, but if you couldn’t objectify your own wife, then who else was there?

When Delphine returned, her gorgeous hair tied back with a cloth hairband, Cosima moved out of the way to let her back into the house.  Delphine didn’t seem to notice – or rather, pointedly ignored – the attention that Cosima paid to Delphine’s shapely legs and the ankles that peeked out at the bottom of the fabric, and sailed right past the bespectacled brunette.

Not one to give up so easily, Cosima grabbed Delphine’s wrist and pulled her back.  She heard the tiny intake of breath of surprise from Delphine and she smiled triumphantly.  She _knew_ that Delphine wanted it just as badly as she did – they hadn’t made love in _weeks_ – and was simply pretending to be uninterested to get Cosima to work.  Two could play at that game.

_Let’s see if she can resist me as well as she thinks she can…_

She pulled the taller woman into a kiss and revelled in the soft feeling of the lips that were pressed against her own.

Delphine did not let it last for long.  She pulled away after only a few seconds.

“Nooo…” Cosima groaned, moving closer to Delphine and pushing their bodies against each other.  “You look so wonderfully domestic and French, and I want to taste the very best thing you have on your home cooked menu…” Cosima moaned into Delphine’s collar, kissing her through the fabric of the thin top that lay underneath.

Delphine hummed in approval, her arms snaking around the back of Cosima, pulling her even closer.

_Yes!  I’ve got her…_

Delphine lowered her head closer to Cosima’s lips but didn’t quite meet them.

The shorter woman could feel the soft breath from Delphine’s mouth brushing against the corner of her lips, and she felt the soft skin of Delphine’s nose brush ever so gently against her cheek, making her shiver slightly.  Turning her head a tiny bit, she only just caught a tiny touch of Delphine’s lips again, when they were gone, suddenly appearing at Cosima’s ear, allowing the Frenchwoman to whisper almost indiscernibly straight into it, making Cosima shiver again.

 _“Not until I see you clean that kitchen so well I could lick your cum off the countertop and_ not _die from the bacteria I ingest.”_

And when Cosima opened her eyes again, Delphine was no longer _anywhere_ to be seen.

Possibly (but now likely) unintentionally, Cosima slammed the front door shut in an attempt to vent the frustration the coursed through her body.

Determined, she stormed into the kitchen, sure that she could complete _one_ job, at least.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

The most she could come up with in terms of _getting rid_ of anything was a grim dish-cloth, a leaflet entitled _‘San Francisco Walks!  There is always more to discover…’_ and a pair of broken scissors.

Almost satisfied, she chucked them away. 

Then, she turned her focus on to the massive pile of bank statements that she had found hidden behind the microwave.  How Delphine had let her get away with it, she didn’t know.  The grabbed the pile and quickly sifted through it, working out if there was anything she really did have to keep.  She flicked through the pile faster and faster, when suddenly she felt a dreadfully uncomfortable pain on the end of her middle finger. 

In a daze, she stopped and looked at the end of her finger.  A very small amount of blood began to bead and pool up, filling up the ridiculously thin cut she had just received from the papers, creating a thick red mark on the end of her finger.

“ _Shit,_ ” she whispered, “Delphiiiiine!” she called out, nearly desperately.

“ _Oui, mon petite fleur?”_ she asked, obviously not interested in what Cosima  had to say.

“Delphine, oh my God, please come and help me, I’ve just, like, _seriously_ cut myself!” Cosima pleaded, her voice shaking with panic.

“ _Merde!_ ” she heard from the bathroom upstairs.  She heard her hurry down the stairs and she sprung into the kitchen in no time.  She looked at Cosima confusedly, clearly expecting there to be Patrick Bateman style blood sprays along the wall, not… the minuscule paper cut that Cosima was looking at wide-eyed and fearfully.

“Cosima.  Are you serious?” she asked, placing her hands on her hips.  The dreadlocked woman couldn’t out a finger on it, per se, but it was very sexy, especially with that one raised eyebrow.

Her finger stung and her eyes snapped back to it.

“Owww, yes babe, I _am_ serious!  My finger hurts like fucking crazy!  I will have you know, Miss High Pain Threshold, that paper cuts are _notoriously_ painful.  They can stimulate a _lot_ of pain receptors in a very small area of the skin, okay?  Sure, it doesn’t like, bleed as much as I would be bleeding if my arm were hacked off with a machete, but it bleeds _enough!_   The wounds are kept open for a _very_ long time, and the oxygen is far more likely to elongate my suffering!  So I would appreciate it if you wouldn’t, like, make fun of me…” she trailed off as Delphine strode across to her and grabbed her hand, frustrated.

With deft fingers and the steady hand of a trained doctor, Delphine took Cosima’s isolated bleeding finger from the others, and… put it in her _mouth_.  Cosima gasped, entirely shocked.  Delphine sucked gently on Cosima’s finger, looking Cosima straight in the eye as she did so.  She began to slow down the longer she had the finger in her mouth.

Eventually, Delphine slowly retracted Cosima’s finger and then let it go with a little pop and one final lick on her wound.  Cosima blinked a few times, bemused.

“Where the frick frack ticking tack did _that_ come from?” she asked quietly, awestruck at the absolute sexiness of that which she had just experienced.  Delphine winked at her.

“Tissue factor in the saliva.  It promotes the blood clotting mechanism.  Not that you _really_ need it for such a small cut.  Oh, and, it was a place where there would be no oxygen to make your poor little finger hurt so much,” she brought her own hand up to Cosima’s cheek and stroked it a little, mocking her, “you big, grown up baby.”  Cosima swallowed.

“You know… there’s another place I think you’d prefer my finger to be…” she suggested quietly, licking her lips and looking at the pulse she could see in Delphine’s neck, getting faster.

Delphine let out a half laugh, half moan. 

“I don’t think…I don’t think that this kitchen is anywhere near clean enough yet, _ma chérie_ …”

Cosima growled and grabbed Delphine’s hand.

“I don’t fucking care about how clean it is, I’m going to get dirty enough buried inside you.”

“ _Cosima_ …” Delphine whispered, leaning her forehead against her wife, “I want you so much, but… the children are coming back so soon…”

Cosima moved Delphine so that she could look into her eyes with a challenge burning in them.

“Delphine, I can _feel_ the heat between your legs.  I don’t think time will be a problem, babe, I just need you to nod for me, and I will ravage you.”  She bit the inside of her cheek, her legs shaking with such a strong need for her wife.  Delphine’s eyelids were heavy with lust, and before she really knew what she was doing, she was nodding repeatedly.

“ _Yes, Cosima,_ ” she whispered, and their lips met with an electricity that they had both been starved of for a long time, their children taking up too much of their time. 

Cosima felt her back get pressed against the island in the middle of the kitchen, and she gasped from the force of it.  Delphine’s hands were all over her, inexhaustible tools of exploration, stroking territory they had claimed as their own a very long time ago, ripping her top out of her trousers and touching her cold hands on Cosima’s warm stomach muscles, making her gasp again and Delphine felt her muscles contract, hardening against her hand.  She felt goose bumps on her skin and she grinned.

Cosima undid the fastenings on Delphine’s dungarees and pushed them down, the elasticated waist holding them just above Delphine’s hips.

Cosima yanked off Delphine’s top and was met with the glorious sight of a breathless Delphine with her breasts cupped perfectly in her bra, her hard nipples poking through the soft fabric.

Leaning forward, Cosima pressed her nose softly against Delphine’s left breast and breathed in deeply.  The smell was a graceful mixture of the washing powder used on the bra and Delphine’s own glorious smell.  Cosima’s eyes fluttered shut, and her hands glided to either side of Delphine’s waist, appreciating the curves of her graceful figure.  She locked her lips onto the swell of her breast and kissed it, licked it and sucked at the flesh.  Delphine groaned at the sensation and her hand rose to the back of Cosima’s head, pulling it against her, willing Cosima to suck harder.

Cosima’s hands slid along soft, supple skin to Delphine’s back, and delved into the bottom half of Delphine’s dungarees, feeling her wife’s ass clench in her hands.

Delphine’s head fell to Cosima’s neck, and returned the brunette’s treatment, biting and sucking at her exposed skin.  Cosima groaned and leant her head to the side, giving Delphine more room, which Delphine took eagerly.  She moved down, ending up at her trapezius and biting with more vigour, making Cosima gasp with the delightful marriage of pleasure and pain.

When Delphine’s hands suddenly pulled off Cosima’s top, the smaller woman snapped, and the desire she had felt build up took over her completely.  With as much strength as she could muster, she spun Delphine around, slamming her against the counter.  Delphine grunted, but didn’t object. 

“Take you bra off,” she ordered, already working on removing the dungarees and underwear, ending up on her knees at Delphine’s feet as the Frenchwoman stepped quickly out of the material that pooled around her ankles.

When she looked up again, Delphine’s chest was bare, but Cosima didn’t stand up again.  Instead, she moved her face closer to the patch of curls that waited for her impatiently. 

Bringing up her left hand high, she massaged a breast as she kissed Delphine’s stomach, her right hand stroking her side.

“Come on, Cosima- I- _merde_ , I need you!” Delphine gasped, and Cosima felt her head pushed down by the Frenchwoman's hand. 

Taking a moment to breathe in her wife’s sweet smell with her nose pressed against Delphine’s core, she felt a guttural moan escape her, the throaty sound vibrating through her just enough to make Delphine whimper.

The hand on the back of Cosima’s head encouraged her further, pressing and pressing, hands entangled in her dreadlocks.  Delphine’s hips bucked forward, and Cosima felt her nose touch the wet heat that was shockingly _ready_.

Unable to hold back any longer, she moaned, and Delphine’s leg moved for her, resting over her shoulder.  Cosima grinned and buried her face in Delphine’s heat, her tongue sliding up and down slowly, eventually resting in the pool of wetness that was already dripping down the taller woman’s legs and onto Cosima’s chin.

Delphine, using a hand to hold her up against the counter, pushed her cunt against Cosima desperately, gasping at the feeling of Cosima’s tongue probing up inside her, drinking her as if it were the first drink she had had since a long walk in the desert.

Cosima’s tongue moved again, slowly travelling towards Delphine’s small bundle of nerves, but she continually circled around it, building up an unbelievable pressure in Delphine, until suddenly, Cosima’s finger was inside her, pumping steadily, joined with a burst of pleasure and a shock from Cosima’s tongue on her clit that made her buckle, nearly falling over completely.

Drawing complex shapes on Delphine’s clit and adding another finger, it didn’t take long for Delphine to reach her orgasm, having been so worked up before.  Her breath grew strained and the sounds she let escape were more arousing than any sounds Cosima had heard in a long time.  She curled in on herself, her head lowering to near Cosima, her legs shaking with the pleasure, her hands gripping onto Cosima’s hair tighter than the grip she had on Cosima’s fingers, which were still pumping gently, elongating her pleasure and guiding her through her orgasm.

Then, suddenly, the doorbell rang.

It is possible that neither woman had ever moved so quickly in their life at that moment.  They hurriedly dressed, and Cosima, who was the one dressed first, ran to the door, wiping her mouth and hands against her top as she went. 

Opening the door, she was greeted with the sight of Sarah, Cal, Kira, and her and Delphine’s three children, all but one covered head to toe in LEGOLAND gear, Sarah only sporting just a cap.  Cal was just as dressed up as the children.

Elisabeth was the first one to jump into the house and hug Cosima’s legs tightly, the balloon attached to her wrist bumping into Cosima’s face.

“Holy- _oof!_ ” she was interrupted when Kira rammed into her, hugging her too.

“Heeey, Cos.”

“Woah, Sarah, hi,” she replied, not in the right frame of mind for this in any way, shape or form.

She opened the door properly, and the people came flooding in, Delphine walking awkwardly down the hallway to meet them.  Hélène shot past Cosima and ran to Delphine.  Antoine seemed entirely uninterested and remained in his pram, sucking on what appeared to be an actual baby’s chew toy in the shape of a large Duplo brick.

Shaking her head, Cosima closed the door gently behind the train of people.  Glancing at the paper cut on her finger, she noted with surprise that it already looked so much better.


End file.
